


such sweet sorrow

by anniebibananie (alindy)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Competing Theater Companies, F/M, Loose Romeo and Juliet Vibe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 03:45:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11073390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alindy/pseuds/anniebibananie
Summary: Mecha Playhouse and Ark Players didn't get along; in fact, Clarke would even dare to call them mortal enemies. So, when Marcus Kane told her they were merging for the summer show, she was fairly certain the feud would bring them all down long before the show even got on the stage. Except, she didn't plan on Bellamy Blake.ORA loose, modern Romeo and Juliet retelling where Bellamy and Clarke are simultaneously Romeo and Juliet AND playing them.





	such sweet sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fic for the 2nd place winner of my fanfic giveaway @alwaystruenorth on tumblr. She requested a modern Romeo and Juliet retelling.

“No,” Clarke sputtered. “No, _nonono._ ”

Kane sighed, squeezing the bridge of his nose. “We don’t have much choice, Clarke.”

She held her arms out wide. In the small space of his office, it seemed to take up the whole room. “The whole cast will threaten to quit, Marcus. You know that.”

He quirked his head. “And you don’t think that’s, oh I don’t know, a little bit _dramatic?”_

“It doesn’t matter what I think.” The puff of breath that left Clarke’s lips was both exasperated and tired. She fell down into the chair across from his desk, letting the news sink in. Ark Players and Mecha Playhouse. Doing a show _together._

“Are you sure there’s no other way?” Clarke asked. “I can look over the books again, try to find a way to scrounge up enough cash.”

He lifted an eyebrow up, and the smile that guiltily found its way to his lips said all Clarke needed to know. It was hopeless.

“I’m afraid, Clarke, that it’s do the show together or don’t do it at all.”

Clarke had never been so sure something was going to end in flames.

* * *

Even though Clarke had been a part of Ark Players for bordering on six years now, she wasn’t sure how the feud got started in the first place. It had existed even before she came along, and seemingly so long that the people in the company before _her_ weren’t sure why it had started. It was just known: Ark Players and Mecha Playhouse were mortal enemies.

They were both as passionate as they were different, which lead to a lot of clashes. Ark Players were known for their more conventional, traditional texts and renditions. Mecha Playhouse for edgier productions and their love of taking risks. An actor would rather die than jump ship from one company to another.

Which was why Marcus Kane telling Clarke that the two were going to be doing the Summer Production _together_ was the worst, most unbelievable thing she had ever heard. Budget cuts, apparently, and a lack of good performance space after the other big theater in town had to be knocked down. For the show to go on, _this_ was their only option.

* * *

The first thing Clarke noticed upon entering the room was how clearly divided it was. Wells waved her over, and she waved back as she walked to join him. He was already seated on the floor, so she dropped her bag and sat down beside him.

“This is more dramatic than I anticipated,” she said as she watched the group cluster together on the other side of the room.

The only person she recognized was Lincoln, who she knew because he had taken over as the new art director at Mecha Playhouse on top of acting. Everyone else looked fairly new. A boy with a smile like a dagger. A girl with hair in intricate braids smiling at something Lincoln had said.

“What did you expect?” Wells asked. “Not our fault they’re all so stubborn they won’t give anyone else a chance.”

Clarke’s eyes darted away from the others to turn to Wells, genuinely shocked. He was always so pragmatic, willing to give a chance. If the feud was capable of reaching even him, she figured it really was hopeless.

“If we act like that, the next few months will be endless.” She pushed her recently cut hair behind her ear, still trying to get the hang of it. It had been an impulse decision more than anything else, but she liked how it made her feel older and bolder.

Wells shrugged. “I didn’t start it.”

Ignoring the comment, she searched the room for Raven. Clarke had never played much into the feud, mostly because it seemed fairly trivial to her. Of course, she cracked jokes about the company just like everyone else, but she realized now that she hadn’t been dramatic at all in Kane’s office. The feud was alive and well, roaring hot and dangerous.

“Where’s Raven?” Clarke asked. As the words left her mouth, her eyes caught onto two new arrivals coming through the door.

They were clearly caught in some intense discussion, heads bowed toward one another. While they were around the same height, they gave off different vibes. One was dark-skinned and seemed perpetually serious, though just as Clarke had thought it he gave a reluctant smile and a laugh.

And the other man? He took Clarke’s breath away for a moment. She wasn’t normally affected by other people like this, especially not another _actor._ Her job often required kissing random people or pretending to be in love—it was always easier to do it with a sort of clinical detachment. Just because people were attractive didn’t mean she was attracted _to_ them.

That was not currently the case, however, because the other man had the sort of expression that just begged for sinful thoughts. A smirk sat on his lips, his hair was curly and wild, and the sweater he was wearing was rolled up at the sleeves and revealed his strong, veiny forearms. His eyes flicked to search around the room and caught onto her own gaze immediately. Clarke looked away and back to the front of the room before she could see how he responded.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“What?” Clarke cleared her throat, ignoring the heat that seemed to rise up her spine.

“Raven is up talking to Roan.”

Clarke followed Wells’s gaze, and, sure enough, there she was. She hadn’t noticed the two of them talking before because Monty and Jasper had blocked her eyesight, but they were heavy in conversation.

“Wow, they’ve been as thick as thieves lately.”

Wells nodded. “Ever since he came up with that idea on how to better rig the backdrops.”

She smiled a little in return, a small laugh bounding from her lips. “There’s nothing Raven likes quite as much as a good, inventive idea.”

Before Wells could respond, Kane finally entered the room. The conversations fell to mere whispers, and Lincoln hopped up to join him. For a second it seemed like they weren’t sure how to greet one another, but then Lincoln held out a hand and the two shook.

Lincoln clapped his hands and turned to face both groups. “We know this is strange for you all, and it’ll be an adjustment for sure.”

“ _But_ ,” Kane continued, “we think this is going to bring a really fresh voice for both companies. We have all been in a rut for some time, and we think this merger might attract a good crowd.”

Clarke eyed the other side, trying to gage how they were responding to this speech. A few grumbled among themselves, though so did her friends around her, but at least everyone was remaining tame. That was the best they could hope for.

“So, what’s the show going to be?” The voice was gravelly, genuinely curious.

It was the man from before. He looked oddly familiar now that Clarke gave him another look, but she wasn’t sure from what she could have recognized him from.

“In the name of the merger,” Lincoln said, “we thought it would be fair to merge our styles as well.”

“Oh god,” Wells mumbled.

“So,” Lincoln continued, “we’re doing Romeo and Juliet.”

“How is that a merger of our styles?” yelled the boy Clarke noticed earlier with pushed back brown hair and a near permanent scowl. He held out a hand, pointing toward the Ark Players. “It sounds just like something they’d do.”

“Hold on,” Kane said. “We haven’t finished. We’re doing Romeo and Juliet, but we’re going to bring it into a new age. The dialogue is all going to remain mostly the same, but the setting is modern. We’re setting it in a college. A sorority house versus a fraternity. Which means characters will be gender-bent, played around with to fit the setting.”

Lincoln smiled encouragingly. “We think it’s going to really give us creativity to make some powerful statements while showcasing all of your incredible talents. Now, we’ve worked with almost all of you enough that the casting list is pretty set, but we need a few of you to stay back and do some reading for us. Marcus, you have the list?”

Kane nodded. “Octavia, Harper, Jasper, Roan, and Maya. Please stay. Everyone else, the cast list will be sent around tonight, and I hope you’re all ready to get this readthrough underway early tomorrow.”

Clarke had barely processed anything, not to mention had barely stood up from the ground, when Raven had already flanked her. “Well, hello there Juliet,” she said.

“Seriously?” Clarke laughed, grabbing her bag up. “We don’t know that. Honestly, have you seen that leggy girl from Mecha? Juliet written all over her.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “Shut up. You’re going to get it, I’m sure. Right, Wells?”

He thought it over for a second before responding. “Kane did say last season you were ready for the spotlight. I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“Do you guys want to go get something for lunch?” Clarke asked, purposefully avoiding the topic at hand. “I’m starving.”

“Sure, I’ll go invite Roan to join us when he’s done. Meet you outside?”

Raven disappeared before Clarke could even nod in response. “What about you, Wells?”

“Sure, I just have to go talk to Kane for a second.”

He waved her on, and Clarke went out through the hallway to the back of the lot where her car was parked. The day was brighter than when she had entered, and her eyes were blinded for a second.

As she leaned against the cold brick, her fingers began to twitch. What if they were right? What if this was really her shot at Juliet? Before she could remind herself she was trying to quit, she had dug into her bag to pull out a cigarette. A second later she had it sitting between her lips.

“Damnit,” she muttered, looking for her lighter.

“Here.” The familiar sound of the lighter clicking had Clarke looking up, and there he was again. As he reached forward to light her cigarette, she could see the finer details of him that were hidden from further away. The trail of freckles on his nose. The small scar on his lip. The way his eyes sparkled with mischief and mystery.

“Thanks,” she said. The relief that washed over her as she dragged in was overwhelming. No wonder it was so hard for her to quit. “You’re from Mecha, right?”

He tilted his head, puffing on his own cigarette now. His shoulder slumped against the wall next to her, and she noticed how broad they were. “You’re not going to try to stab me if I say yes, are you?”

Clarke leaned conspiratorially closer. “Can I tell you a secret?” she whispered. He nodded. “I don’t play much into feuds. It feels a little too meta for the production we’re about to do, don’t you think?”

He laughed, smiling over at her with a nod. “I hadn’t thought much of it.” He took another drag before switching the cigarette to his other hand, holding out one for her to shake. “Bellamy Blake.”

The name sparked it all into place. His face had been on posters all around town last Summer when they did Spring Awakening, just not big enough for her to remember him immediately. “Clarke Griffin.”

The back door crashed open, and the girl with the finely braided hair waltzed through. “Come on, Bell, you promised me a sandwich.”

Bellamy dropped the cigarette to the floor, squashing it underneath his foot. “I’ll see you around, Clarke.”

She nodded a goodbye and watched as he jogged after the other girl. They said something between them, a laugh erupting. Just as his hand was perched on the door handle of his car, he looked back and waved. Clarke’s heart skipped a beat.

Raven and Wells exited the doorway then. Raven reached forward to pull the cigarette from her mouth. “I’m not losing you to lung cancer, Griffin.”

Clarke smiled, rolling her eyes as she looped their arms together.

* * *

**ARKADIA SENTINEL ONLINE**

**_Mecha Playhouse and Ark Players Summer Production and Cast List Announced_ **

With a modern take on a classic tale, residents of Arkadia have a lot to look forward to this Summer. The two theatre companies will be doing Romeo and Juliet, though instead of the traditional setting it will take place in the confines of a college. House Montague and Capulet aren’t just families, but Sorority and Fraternity families. We, for one, are excited to see this fresh spin.

_Cast List:_

_Romeo - Bellamy Blake_

_Juliet - Clarke Griffin_

_Paris - Octavia Blake_

_Capulet - Luna Flora_

_Montague - Wells Jaha_

_Benvolio - John Murphy_

_Mercutio - Nathan Miller_

_Tybalt - Maya Vie_

_Nurse - Harper McIntyre_

**_Click to read more._ **

* * *

“So, you really get a lot of us Blakes,” Bellamy said, sitting down next to Clarke.

Her head had been ducked down in her script where she was making notes, so it took her a minute to look up and notice him. Her head was still spinning in Shakespeare.

“What?” Her brow furrowed.

“Octavia and I, we’re both your love interests.”

It took her a minute but then she laughed, shaking her head. “What can I say, I guess Juliet has a type.” The smile he gave her in response felt like a victory. “You’re playing a dangerous game sitting next to me, you know.”

“I’m not sitting here by choice, it was all Lincoln and Kane’s orders,” he said. “You may not have a thing for feuds, but I definitely do. I’d rather stay away from you if at all possible.”

Clarke bit her lip, stifling the smile at his dry delivery. “Is that so?”

“Oh, yeah. _Definitely.”_ He shot her a brief smile. “It makes for a good excuse, though. Doesn’t it?”

“No one will ever know we actually like each other,” she said, reaching out her pinky finger.

He dramatically looked both ways before wrapping his own with hers. “Deal.”

* * *

**Bellamy:**

Wanna get together to work on lines?

If we don’t get our chemistry right

we’re doomed.

 

Clarke eyed her phone, unable to hide the smile that lit up her lips.

“I cannot _stand_ that Murphy guy.” Raven was pacing in their apartment while Wells and Clarke laid on the couch. “He requested Monroe run through light colors with him because some didn’t work well with his skin tone, and he didn’t _trust_ her to figure it out on her own. Like the whole world revolves him. Like she doesn’t know how to do her job!”

 

**Clarke:**

I don’t practice lines with anyone

from Mecha. Sorry.

 

 **Bellamy** **_:_ **

That’s just cold, princess. 

 

“That chick with the face tattoo,” Wells said. It was out of the ordinary for him to be so oblivious and, nearly, rude about someone else.

“Emori,” Clarke supplied.

“Yeah, she has a vendetta against us. She’s had to take my measurements for costumes three times, and she definitely didn’t need to prick me as many times with pins as she did.”

 

**Bellamy:**

I’ll buy food, but that’s as much

bribery as I’m capable of.

 

**Clarke:**

Fine. Send me your address and I’ll

head over. No funny business though

or I’ll never trust you again.

 

**Bellamy:**

cross my heart

 

Clarke jumped up, ignoring the other two’s stares as she grabbed up her things. “I’ve got to go into the theater for a little bit. See you guys later?”

“You didn’t mention this earlier,” Wells said.

She shrugged as she slipped into her jacket, tugging the hair out from underneath the collar. “Stuff popped up. I’ll be back before the shindig tonight.”

“Promise?” Raven asked as she took the spot Clarke had previously occupied on the couch. “We have to plan the demise of the Mecha Playhouse.”

Clarke sighed, hand on the door. “Don’t you think we should try working together with them considering we can’t do the show without them?”

“Hogwash,” Raven said. “Tell that to Wells’s over-pricked legs.”

Wells held his leg up as if it was evidence, and Clarke rolled her eyes before giving a wave and exiting.

* * *

Bellamy lived surprisingly close, and ten minutes later Clarke was at his door with her script under her arm. He opened the door wide, not bothering to say hello as he went back to the kitchen.

“What are you doing?” she asked, staring at him moving around in bewilderment.

He gave her a smile before diving back in. “I’m making paninis.”

“You’re _making_ food.” That was all it took for Clarke to feel comfortable in his small yet cozy apartment. She threw her coat and bag over the plush chair in his adjacent living room, and came up next to him where he was cooking zucchini and corn on the stove. “I was promised food, I didn’t know I was getting _homemade_ food.”

He shrugged. “I had a craving.”

She tilted her head as she perused the layout in front of her. He was cooking something on the stove, slices of bread already stacked next to his panini maker and slices of pepperjack cheese. “This looks pretty fancy.”

“If this looks like something you won’t like, I can make you something else,” He said as he moved to the panini maker and buttered a piece of bread. He layered on pepperjack cheese and then grabbed the pan from beside him, layering it with the corn/zucchini mixture. “I promise, though, these will change your life.”

Clarke liked him here in his element. His hair was even more wild than earlier, and he was wearing a simple black t-shirt. He looked relaxed, and she was glad that he felt that way even in her presence.

“They smell really good.” She hopped up on the counter, wary for only a second he would disapprove before a smile spread across his lips at the sight. “You cook a lot?”

He nodded. “You’ll have to come back sometime when I make some traditional Philippine dishes. I’ve been assured they’re to die for.”

“You’re filipino?” Clarke asked as she reached over to carefully pluck a piece of zucchini from the pan. She tossed it into her mouth, savoring in the seasonings.

“What? Surprised a pansexual, Southeast Asian guy can be cast as Romeo?” he teased. “Because, trust me, I am, too.”

“You’re fucking talented. There was no way they would have given Romeo to anyone else,” she said. “Don’t let the compliment go to your head or anything, though.”

He opened the panini maker, slipping the sandwich out and cutting it in two. After sliding the halves onto separate plates, he handed her one. It took a lot of self control to keep the moan that threatened to crawl up her throat bottled as she took a bite. It was just so damn _good._

“I take it back. You can have all the compliments,” she said around a bite.

“Don’t let the other Ark Players hear you say that.” He crafted another pannini in the grill, closing it shut with a push. “Don’t you know the feud is in full force?”

“So the Mecha Playhouse is just as petty as us Arkers?” she asked. “Because I’m pretty sure my friends are going to plan some sort of rebellion tonight.”

He quirked his head to the side. “Emori and Murphy are one scrappy couple, and Roma is out for blood. She was really hoping on getting Juliet.”

Clarke kicked out her leg, hitting it against his hip. “You’ll watch out for me, right?”

He didn’t respond for a beat, pulling the last panini out before unplugging the maker. Another half of a sandwich was slipped onto her plate, and then he turned to her. His eyes were just the right balance of serious and playful; it lit a fire in Clarke’s stomach.

“I have a feeling,” he said, voice low, “that you can protect yourself all on your own. But a second pair of eyes couldn’t hurt.”

Her hands twitched, but this time it wasn’t the hankering for a cigarette. They wanted to walk along his jaw, tangle in his hair, clasp onto his shirt and pull him closer. Her body vibrated on the same frequency as his, both of them inching closer.

“I’m glad we’re not buying into this whole feud thing.” Her voice came out barely above a whisper.

“Me too, princess.” He reached out, clasping onto her hip to help her off the counter. “Maybe we can move to the table to finish up eating and do some reading.”

Clarke didn’t look up, because she knew if she did his face would be too close for her to keep herself restrained. “Perfect.”

* * *

The show wasn’t going _well_ before ‘The Incident,’ but it was going well enough. Luna and Fox had set aside the feud long enough to convincingly act like they were dating in the show, and Octavia had stopped scowling at Clarke during breaks from rehearsing their scenes. Roan was starting to actually _get along_ with Bellamy when the three of them would sit around, and Murphy had stopped scowling and instead just looked impassive. It felt like a win.

But then Jasper had to be an idiot.

They were blocking the first scene, but Jasper hadn’t entered yet and neither had Wells or Maya. The three of them were sitting to the side of the stage as Kane worked with others, mostly keeping quiet as they chatted amongst themselves. Jasper didn’t care that Maya was Mecha, mostly because she was cute (he had texted this to the Ark Players group message to be met with virtual groans).

“...and after that show it was kinda my big break, because I got to do Macbeth and–”

The whole room stood still.

“You did _not_ just say that,” Murphy yelled from across the space. “You idiot.”

“Come _on,_ man,” Octavia said.

“Shit, shit, I’m so sorry.” Jasper looked wildly around the theater, sparing a glance at Maya who was purposefully avoiding his gaze. “I’ll go do the counter curse.”

“It won’t be enough,” Murphy said. “We’re fucked now.”

Clarke finally looked up from her place in the back of the theater where her and Bellamy had been running the balcony scene. It was clear the whole theater was on the verge of anarchy. Kane looked hopelessly from his spot on stage, while everyone scattered around was mumbling and groaning.

“Guys,” Kane called. “I wish we hadn’t brought the scottish play into this, but can we be adults, please? Jasper, go outside, spin around three times, spit, and then say the dirtiest swear you can. Don’t come in unless you’re invited back.”

Jasper hopped up and rushed out of the theater, glad to have been ordered to do something.

Miller hopped up, looking around. “Does anyone have salt? He has to throw it over his shoulder, too.”

“Are you sure he just has to _spin_ around?” Roma questioned from near the stage. “I thought he had to run around the _whole_ theater three times for it to work.”

The theater erupted into noise after that, and the next half hour was lost to counter-curse measures. No one was willing to risk their show collapsing, so Jasper and sometimes the rest of the cast were forced through superstitions. Even though everyone _acknowledged_ that they were ridiculous, no one was willing to avoid them.

“Can we get back to the show, now?” Kane asked, but by then the whole day had been ruined. After trying to reblock the scene, the chaos became too much and Kane let everyone go.

Clarke gave a comforting squeeze to Jasper’s upper arm, who was looking like a kicked puppy as they left. She could see Bellamy’s head as he retreated to his car with Octavia and Miller. She wanted to ask him if she could come over later, if she could lounge on his couch as they ate food and watched Netflix. Maybe run some lines.

He didn’t look back. Maybe it was a sign, she decided. Maybe she had been playing a game she wasn’t supposed to touch.

* * *

Monty had sprained his ankle two days later. Jasper felt so bad he bought enough Chinese food to feed the whole cast two times over, though it was just for the Arkers at Raven, Wells, and Clarke’s place. They all sat around the coffee table, grabbing at different containers and boxes.

“I don’t blame you Jasper,” Monty said for the millionth time. “The whole thing was doomed for destruction from the get-go.”

Harper nodded in agreement enthusiastically, handing over a container of fried rice for Monty who was laid out on the couch, leg up on a pillow.

Roan grumbled from his place on the floor where he leaned up against the chair Raven was sitting on. “Maybe we _should_ have planned something to set them on the defense. Show them all who’s boss.”

Raven leaned forward. “Does this mean scheming?”

He reached up a hand, the two high fiving at once.

“It’ll pass, guys,” Clarke said. “We _need_ this show to be a success if we ever have a hope of doing a show without the Mecha Playhouse.”

Harper began complaining with Jasper about something else, and Roan and Raven whispered as their plans grew into something that Clarke knew she would disapprove of. Her phone beeped, and she had a feeling she knew who it was.

 

**Bellamy:**

Do you think we were stupid? For

thinking we could ever get this show

to work?

 

**Clarke:**

People are complaining at your house too?

 

**Bellamy:**

Yea.

 

Missed having you here the past few days.

 

Clarke bit her bottom lip, unable to hide the blush and smile that rushed over her features. She missed him too, probably more than she should. It was just nice to know that she wasn’t alone in those feelings.

 

**Bellamy:**

Wanna come over tomorrow? We can

perfect that balcony scene once and for all.

 

**Clarke:**

Wouldn’t miss it.

* * *

The door was barely flung open before Clarke was cursing. “ _Apparently_ , Emori hemmed Wells’s pants wrong. Which I just had to hear about. For the last _hour._ ”

“I don’t know if it makes it better or worse,” Bellamy said, stepping away for a moment to grab her a beer and crack it open, “but I’m almost certain it was intentional.”

Clarke fell into his couch. “We’ll never make it out alive.”

He sat down beside her and took a long drag from the beer. “Well, _we_ might, but I’m sure the rest of them won’t.”

Over the last few weeks, Clarke had come to love Bellamy’s apartment. It had everything you needed and nothing more, designed for comfort. Piles of random books and scripts littered the floor, the couch and chair made you want to never get up, and the kitchen was impeccably organized.

“If we were smart we probably wouldn’t have started this,” she said. She wasn’t sure if she was feeling brave or just tired, but the truth came out anyways.

“So… it is a this, then?” he asked. The words were vulnerable enough that Clarke had to pause, putting the beer down on the table and turning toward him.

“I really hope so.”

He licked his lips, scanning over the planes of her face. Then he reached out a hand, tangling over the small section of red they had dyed into her hair for the play. It felt like forever before they moved closer together, then like they were speeding down a highway.

His lips moved hurriedly over her own, and she was pushing him back a second later. She straddled his hips and kissed his chin, the spot where his neck met his shoulder, finally stopping to suck on his pulse point.

“They say life mimics art. Guess it’s true,” he said, breathy and uncontrolled.

Clarke smirked. “Well, guess we should practice that wedding night scene, then.”

Bellamy grabbed onto her thighs, and she clutched onto him as he stood up. Her laughter was joyous, filling every nook and cranny of the place. “We definitely should. Maybe a few times.”

* * *

As Bellamy and Clarke’s relationship got better and better, the show pretty much got worse. First, Raven and Roan retaliated the hemming debacle by sabotaging some of Murphy’s props and costumes. They even got Monroe in on it, making sure to light the stage in just the perfect shade to wash him out.

It pretty much just got worse from there. Worse, but even then still at least on the edge of manageable. Kane’s hair may have been going gray, but they were at least still moving at a pace that could get the show ready in time.

Then Murphy and Wells caught Bellamy and Clarke making out backstage and pretty much everything was fucked.

“What the hell is this?” Murphy yelled. “We already have to deal with these people on the stage, but you have one in your bed at night?”

Bellamy moved to rush forward, but Clarke grabbed onto his arm. She clasped it to her chest, trying to restrain him as much as possible.

Except she couldn’t grab onto Wells too, and he was more upset than she would have expected. He pushed Murphy, knocking him onto the stage just as Kane was fixing the lights for what felt like the hundredth time.

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Wells said. “She doesn’t deserve that shit from you.”

“And I shouldn’t have to deal with _this_ shit!” Murphy pulled at his hair before rushing forward to push him back.

Clarke had never thought Wells was much of a fighter. He was rational. A peacemaker, but clearly she had underestimated how on edge he was and his devotion to his friends. He stepped forward, socking Murphy straight in the jaw with a loud crack.

Murphy went ballistic right after, knocking Wells to the ground. As Roan went to grab him off, Murphy accidentally elbowed him straight in the gut, which caused another explosion. Finally Miller came to help, and it was a disaster. The four of them couldn’t keep their bravado locked away.

Clarke knew Bellamy was squirming at her side. His body tensed as he saw people fighting because of something he had started.

“Stop it!” Clarke screamed with so much volition the whole theater seemed to shut up. The yelling from the audience was gone. The fighting halted. All eyes were on the girl with fire in her stance and thunder in her voice. “Do you guys want us to fail? Honestly?”

No one responded, frozen with fear.

She stepped forward, letting go of Bellamy’s arm. “We aren’t doing this show together for _fun_ , guys. We’re doing it because we have no other choice. It’s this or we’re all out of jobs. How can you not want this to be good?”

Her scanned eyes saw guilty expressions, ducked heads, and Clarke wanted to scream at them that, goddamnit, they _should_ feel bad.

“We can either give up,” Bellamy joined in as he came forward, “or we can make this something worth doing. We’ve been given a hell of a chance, and I can’t believe we’re all being so petty that we’re throwing it away.”

His eyes had stars twinkling within them, and Clarke couldn’t help herself from reaching out a hand to tangle their fingers together.

“What are we going to do guys?” he asked. “It’s up to all of you.”

* * *

“Marcus and I would like to give a toast,” Lincoln said at the opening night after party. The music dulled as someone turned it down, and the two stood up on chairs to speak to their audience. “We know this was one hell of a shaky start.”

“We’re just glad it came together in the end. We’re already sold out for the rest of this weekend.” Kane held up his glass and the cast and crew cheered boisterously. “Lincoln and I have been talking, and we’ve been contemplating something that we didn’t want to fully decide without you guys.”

Lincoln cleared his throat. “With the success of this show, it would be a great plan for us to permanently merge together. We wouldn’t be able to do it without all of you, though, so if the feud will tear us apart there’s no point.”

The room went silent again, no one saying much of anything.

Clarke grabbed onto Bellamy’s hands, feeling his smile without even having to turn to see it. “Together!” she called, her free hand cupped around her mouth.

For a second the silence remained, and then cheers followed. Raven stepped over and planted a kiss on Clarke’s cheek before turning to high five Luna. Even Murphy looked over at her, giving her a mock toast with his beer.

Bellamy clasped onto her hand tighter as the music swelled back up around them. “Together,” he whispered.

* * *

**ARKADIA SENTINEL ONLINE**

**_Mecha Playhouse and Ark Players Permanently Merge. What Groundbreaking Work Will They Bring Next?_ **

**Author's Note:**

> come yell at me on tumblr: [clarkescrusade](http://clarkescrusade.tumblr.com/)


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